Diagnosis Of The Heart
by SabineAmnell
Summary: Set after the final episode, this is my version of the aftermath. House made a promise to Wilson but, he gets sidetracked when Cuddy falls extremely ill and he must diagnose her. Will he be able to provide the support her couldn't while she is possibly dying from some unknown cause? Please R&R. Have faith Huddy fans!
1. The Flu and Seeing You

Been watching House a lot and just couldn't bare the thought that Cuddy and House end the way they do. Yes, I know, cheesy. But, I'm willing to bet I'm not the only one who wished it happened differently. This is my version of what happens after Wilson's death.

* * *

It was Saturday. Rachel Cuddy was spending a much anticipated night with her grandmother. Arlene promised Rachel ice cream every night and they were probably watching Tangled for the fifteenth time. The evening fit for the fantasy of any five year old was truly a way to give her mother, Lisa Cuddy, some time to herself. She had gotten ill with the flu and needed the weekend to recoup. Sure, she could have gotten meds to help her through it faster, she was Dean of Bayshore Medical Center after all, but she remembered something that House had said…Lisa Cuddy shook her head. How did Gregory House seem to seep in her thoughts so sneakily? In any case, he had been right. The immune system was weakened every time someone used antibiotics instead of allowing their body to fight off illness. Not to mention the virus or bacteria was strengthened from being exposed to antibiotics. The super resistant viruses and bacteria were practically invented by antibiotics and the doctors who prescribed them for a little cough.

This particular flu was hanging in there though but Cuddy still was determined to allow her body to fight it off on its own. Rachel had gotten the flu first and had given it to her mother. Her daughter had gotten over it fairly quickly which Lisa envied and appreciated at the same time. A knock at her door made her put the book that she had been reading, or skimming through while missing every word due to being in thought, down. She pulled herself off the couch wearily, her lack of make-up, long gray sweater and flannel pajama pants made her a sight to answer the door, but Lisa Cuddy was used to taking care of things herself in sickness and in health.

Opening the door, her blue eyes focused unbelieving on the face of the man outside her door. She swallowed nervously, her heart pounding in anxiety as Gregory House gave her that familiar sheepish blue eyed gaze. Cuddy's jaw set as she gained her composure from the initial surprise.

"You're not surprised to see me." House said after a long moment of assessing her reaction.

"I'm surprised to see you." Cuddy responded, her voice thick.

"You're not surprised to see me alive." House corrected.

"I'm not surprised to see you alive." Cuddy confirmed.

"Wilson…"

"Wrote me." Cuddy confirmed further. After a moment of preparation, she just had to know, "Is he?"

House looked away, his blue eyes suddenly cold, "Yes."

"I'm sorry, House." Cuddy said, torn between kicking this criminal off her property and being sympathetic of his, and if she was honest with herself, her own loss of a friend, "You were with him in the end?"

"I learn from my mistakes," Was all House said as an answer.

That brought it all back. His abandonment of her when she thought she might die. He had given Wilson what he hadn't given her. Support in a time of need. A selfless support where he set his own feelings of grief and fear aside to be there for someone. "What are you doing here, House?"

"For once, I'm taking Wilson's advice. I'm making amends with people."

That answer took her aback more than she cared to admit and she was speechless, a rare quality in Lisa Cuddy.

"I'm sorry." He went on, and they both knew what he was apologizing for. When she didn't respond, he continued, "For doing what I did."

"For potentially risking my life and the lives of anyone in my home by driving a car into my living room?" She said, now finding her voice and her anger. She was so tired, her legs felt weak, her hands felt loose on the door even though she wanted to grip the handle fiercely. She could barely make a fist over the metal and knew she needed to lie down and rest.

A million snarky remarks came into his head, but he thought of Wilson and swallowed them, "I'm sorry." He finally had the guts to look up at her but his eyes suddenly assessed her as a doctor and noted how pale she was and how she seemed to be using the door for support in standing, "You're sick." He said, instinctively.

"I have the flu," Cuddy answered dismissively, "I think you should leave, House."

House ignored her, giving her a once over and shaking his head, "How long have you had the flu?"

"Did you hear me? I think you should leave now." Her eyelids drooped and her voice was slow.

"You don't have the flu." House took a step forward, her blood pressure had dropped since she had answered the door, she was paler and shaking. Suddenly, her knees buckled and she collapsed forward. House dropped his cane, catching her. She was still conscious and he laid her down on the floor inside the house, "Can you stand?"

Cuddy nodded, attempting to push herself off the floor, but her legs could obviously not hold her. House gathered her in his arms and limped to the couch, placing her on it carefully, "How long have you had the flu, Cuddy?" He needed to know.

"Two weeks."

The flu was a resistant little bastard, but two weeks was on the high end of its life expectancy, "Any improvement?"

"Yes, I felt better for the last few days."

"Do your legs hurt?"

"Yes and they feel weak. Tingling."

House fought with himself. He hadn't meant to barge into her life again, only apologize and then leave her alone forever. He couldn't leave now, though.

"What's the matter with me?" Cuddy asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He put a hand to her forehead, she wasn't warm, there was no fever, "I don't know."


	2. Cuddy's Heart

Warning: I am not a doctor. I did do research the best I could, but odds are the facts are not exact. Please suspend your disbelief and have fun reading.

* * *

After a few hours, it was clear that whatever had effected Cuddy was not getting any better and was not caused by Influenza. Her body was getting weaker by the moment. Even after sleeping, she could not stand on her own nor could she make a fist. Her hands were following the same path as her legs in becoming completely useless.

"It's not paralysis," Cuddy confirmed, "I can still feel my legs." She complained of muscle pain and said her fingers were tingling.

House swallowed, considering, "I have to take you to the hospital, Cuddy." He limped around, found the closet and gathered what he guessed was her coat. Even in the midst of this fear and worry, he noted that there was no coat that could have possibly belonged to a man. He also noted that her coat smelled like her and memories began to trickle in.

She only nodded, "I have to call my mother." She reached behind her on the end table for the mobile phone. It tipped into her weak hand and she pulled it to her chest. She could barely move her hands with any dexterity now and dialing was impossible. With sudden horror, she knew that, if not for House, she would have been here alone and unable to call for help for another whole day. Depending on what this was, that could have proven fatal.

He saw the phone on her chest as he approached with her coat, and picked it up, "Number?" She recited it and he dialed, observing the horror on her face as she slowly lost control of her motor functions. "Mom," Cuddy rasped after House put the phone to her ear, "I'm going into the hospital. I've gotten worse." There was a pause and an urgent voice on the other end, "No, stay there and keep Rachel. I'll call you when I can."

House looked understandably worried as she spoke to her mother. Any word of him would cause the wrath of hell to come down on his head and it was likely she would turn him in. It ended in less than thirty seconds and his blue eyes questioned her. "I don't want her to worry until I know more." She explained, "At least until I get to the hospital." Was she protecting him, she wondered.

He pulled her into a sitting position and began to put on her coat, noting that she was barely able to assist him. Her arms still had function, but her hands and legs were so weak, she had little control. He tried to fight the warmth that came over him as he pulled her close and felt her hands on his chest as he pulled the coat on her, "Where are the car keys? All I have is my bike."

"In the bowl by the door."

House hobbled to the front door and fished inside the wooden bowl sitting on a stand. Producing a set of keys, he flashed them at her and got a nod. Pocketing them, he sat beside her again, gathering her in his arms. It was slow going out to the car. With House limping and Cuddy hardly able to hold on, he had to gain his grip again more than once. Finally, he placed her in the front seat of the car and limped back inside to grab his cane and lock the door. He called Bayshore and got a surprised look from Cuddy, "It's where you work, right?" He asked, knowing it was not all that far from Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching nodded, knowing she shouldn't be surprised that he knew so much. She had tried to get away and Bayshore was as far as she had gotten. It was still in the district of the schools she wanted to send Rachel, still near her mother and sister, and still near her old life. The one she missed.

At the hospital, they were greeted by some staff and a wheelchair because House had called ahead. Now, he knew he should leave. She was in good hands and only bad could come out of his sticking around. He could hear her voice becoming more faint as she explained what was going on to the medics and waves of dread washed over him repeatedly. The staff began to talk to him, ask him questions too and he had little choice but to follow her inside. Once he had answered every question he could, his mind reeled with the question of what could be wrong with her. An infection that mimicked the flu seemed most likely, in which case, they would find it easily and antibiotics would cure her. But, then she wouldn't have been feeling better for the last few days. He would stay long enough for them to find the infection, he decided. That should only be a few hours.

Those few hours had not proved to be the clarifying difference in the case that he had hoped. After several tests and a good dose of antibiotics, it was clear that they were not dealing with something simple.

"She's asleep," the doctor told House who had been sitting in the waiting room, "We're confident the antibiotics will soon take effect." He spoke down to House, obviously never dreaming that he was a doctor. House knew that his words were bullshit, however and limped into Cuddy's room, his blue eyes intently fixed in her.

She awoke some time later as he was sitting by the bed, tipping his cane back and forth, his eyes distantly staring at the wall, "House," she rasped, a bit surprised that he was still around.

"They have no idea what's wrong with you." He said bluntly, "Your white count is way down, blood pressure is down, and the broad spectrum antibiotics are having no effect." He had to keep it business, he had decided. He was making amends, not trying to barge in like he had with Stacy.

"House, what's doing this, what's wrong with me?" She asked again.

He was no more wise about it now as he had been the first time, she had asked back at her house, "I don't know." With that, he stood, limping out quickly and found Cuddy's doctor filling out some paperwork at a nurse's station."Hi," he slapped his cane onto the counter and over the paperwork and gave the handsome doctor a false smile, "Dr. Cuddy wants an MRI, and blood tests to cover all the bases."

"Excuse me," he brushed House's cane off his work, "I was going to check up on Dr. Cuddy in a few moments, but her symptoms are vindictive of a virus and the antibiotics-"

House cut him off, "It's not a virus and if you looked at her symptoms for more than twenty seconds, you'd see that. Or maybe you wouldn't, maybe your head is just peaking it's way in between your butt cheeks and going full throttle into your ass."

Doctor Michael Kincaid's face turned bright red, "Sir, I can understand you're upset, but I know what I'm doing. Dr. Cuddy's symptoms are consistent with severe influenza. She has had the flu for over a week now. She-"

House never let him finish, "You're basing your diagnosis on her symptoms from a week ago? Did you even look at her?" House found himself shouting now, "If you were right, we would see an effect, she'd be getting better."

"It's tough to tell from the first few-"

"Tough by not impossible. I know the subtle signs of improvement under antibiotics, but she's getting worse."

"Sir, I must insist you trust my judgement, you're not a doctor, and-"

"I am a doctor." House shouted, "What I'm wondering is how you ever became one. Buy your degree on EBay? I'd say you slept with every professor you had in Med School to pass, but something tells me you're stupid and impotent."

Dr. Kincaid was truly angry now, his face flushed and his brow furrowed, "Get the hell out of my face!"

But House's attention had been diverted. Nurses were running toward the direction he had come." He rushed away from the doctor and followed and found exactly what he'd been afraid of. The monitors were beeping incessantly and one long note alerted House that Cuddy's heart had stopped. He stood in the doorframe, paralyzed in fear.

"Push one cc of epi!" A nurse called out.

The room that held Cuddy was full of urgent life. The only still thing in the room was Cuddy's heart.


	3. Puzzles

The defibrillator paddles appeared and Cuddy's back arched against them as the electrical surge pounded through her body. "Clear!" House had heard the nurse shout before the jolt, memories of Princeton flooding over him as the familiar smells and sounds surrounded him. He would be limping through the halls and hear these sounds. His team would come up behind him and tell him what tests were negative and what they thought their current patient might have. He had taken it for granted and had gotten to do what he wanted when he wanted. He had liked his job but was miserable anyway. He remembered Cuddy from the beginning of his employment. Six years he spent avoiding clinic duty and she had finally grown tired enough of his disregard for her authority to force him into it.

"I looked into that philosopher you quoted, and you're right, you can't always get what want, but it turns out, if you try sometimes, you get what you need." She had said, "I need you to do your job."

House smiled at the memory because he had been stumped. She had won that battle as she would win many more. She and Wilson were the only ones who could.

House's stinging prelude to this, "Well, as the philosopher Jagger once said, 'You can't always get what you want.'" Had never been more true. He had wanted Cuddy and lost her. He had wanted Wilson to live and he was gone too. And now...

"We got a rhythm." A nurse chirped happily, jolting House from his thoughts.

House let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. His piercing angry stare focused right on Dr. Kincaid, "If only patients could fire doctors for nearly killing them. Oh wait, she's the Dean of Medicine, she can fire you." House said, his voice cold with venom. Dr. Kincaid retreated then, presumably to schedule the tests House had ordered.

Another hour that House thought he would have been long gone was spent sitting by Cuddy. She woke again, and at least he could tell her that she had been stabilized. "Your heart stopped." Damn, me, he thought, that was not telling her she was stable. It was the blunt truth.

She blinked rapidly, taking in the news. After a long moment, she said, "I have to call my mother."

"I did that. No answer, so I left the most awkward message in history. She'll fly down here in a ball of rage once she hears it, so not to worry."

"You're leaving." she deduced, "I thought you might have already." She said, her voice small.

"I thought you would have thrown me off your property the moment you laid eyes on me." He countered.

"That's what I had planned to do if you ever showed up." She admitted, turning her head away.

"What stopped you?"

"After I got Wilson's letter and his news..." She began, unable to actually tell him that she felt bad that his one and only friend would be dead in less than a year. "The past few years have cooled my anger." She said by way of explanation. The truth was that her reaction was far different than the one she had planned. But, when House had showed up, giving her that pensive look, his blue eyes, humble and tired, her heart had softened. He had been through a lot and now, she knew, had stayed with Wilson until the end. If that wasn't a punishment, she didn't know what was. It was the one form of misery that House had not done to himself. Wilson's death had changed everything and she found herself unable to pile more grief on top of it. It wouldn't stop her from dismissing him, however, and she had tried. A life threatening illness must have been the only thing that would have stopped her.

"I made some other calls as well." He interjected into her thoughts, "I'm getting you a consult from the diagnostics department at Princeton."

"Chase?" She asked.

"And Foreman, they have no idea it was me. Can't wait to see their faces." He quipped, his eyes taking on that familiar sarcastic twinkle, "I've also attempted to get a hold of Cameron."

"You're not leaving?" She asked, wondering why she felt the sudden urge to ask him to stay.

"And leave it up to those morons to diagnose this? No."

This. Not her. She understood then. She was a puzzle that he had to figure out. A chance to relive the glory days. Why did she feel disappointed by this, hadn't she learned her lesson?

It was better that she thought she was some puzzle to him, he knew. No reason to tell her how personal it was.


	4. Chase

The tests that House had ordered came back with very few facts and more confusion. They hadn't even proved beyond a doubt that Cuddy's crisis was not a severe influenza virus. There were so many illnesses that could result in these broad symptoms, however and House remained stumped. She had tested positive for the flu, but House knew that was because she had recently had it and still might. It wasn't what was causing her nervous system to start shutting down, however.

It was Chase who arrived first, no doubt sent by Foreman to scope it out to make sure he was actually needed. The pretty doctor had a few more wrinkles but had changed very little in appearance since the last time House had seen him. To make it more mysterious, House sat with his back to the door. These rooms weren't glass like at Princeton and anyone approaching wouldn't be able to see inside until they walked through the door.

Chase stood outside the doorway for a moment, preparing to see his former boss laid out and ill. He stepped in and saw a man sitting beside the bed. Cuddy, who had seemed asleep before, awoke. She gave him a sympathetic glance, knowing what was seconds away.

"Differential diagnosis," House said handing chase Cuddy's chart but still not turning around.

Chase's eyes grew wide and they darted from Cuddy to House. He was speechless and the silence hung in the air for several moments.

"You're still useless and Foreman gave you my job? Idiot." House stood and faced his former employee. Then he motioned to Cuddy, "She would never have given you my job because she knows you're an idiot. But don't let that stop you from your diagnosis."

Chase finally found his voice, "You're dead."

"The force is not strong with this one." House said in his best Obi Wan voice. "Then I'm a ghost, whatever makes this easier for you to stop wasting time and start diagnosing."

Chase turned to Cuddy, "What the hell is going on?"

"What's going on is she's dying unless we figure out why." House interjected before Cuddy could answer, "And where the hell is Foreman? Too high and mighty to do a consult these days?"

It was the first mention that Cuddy could be dying and she swallowed hard and looked away. She had known it, of course, but that didn't make it easier to hear. It had not been easy to say either, and House had to focus on Chase ways to insult him in order to prevent freezing in fear.

"He just sent me because the request was for a difficult diagnosis and since-" Chase cut himself off, "I went to your funeral."

"And you said some very nice things, can we get to the matter at hand, now?"

Chase looked between Cuddy and House for another few moments. House's urgent and annoyed stare made him nod and look at the chart, "Shouldn't we be talking to Dr. Kincaid?"

House held back a growl, "No."

"I see your ego is still intact." Chase commented.

"Did you notice the cardiac arrest a few hours ago?" House snapped, "We have the genius Dr. Kincaid to thank for that. Now either call out some ideas or get Foreman down here like I asked from the beginning."

"House." It was Cuddy's faint voice, "The antibiotics didn't cause the cardiac arrest."

"No, but his stupidity did. All he had to do was look at your current symptoms to know it wasn't simply the flu."

Taking the chart with him, Chase left the room. House turned briefly toward his leaving, distantly worried that he was about to be turned in. Cuddy's voice brought him back, however.

"The cardiac arrest would have happened anyway, but it would have happened while I was at home." It wasn't a question and he suddenly knew where she was going, "You saved my life."

"Not yet." Was all he said in return. Their eyes locked now and House reached out to take her hand...

"Lisa!" It was Arlene Cuddy's voice and House pulled away from her daughter quickly like a teenager caught necking in her bedroom, "Gregory?" She said, blinking in shock and coming closer.

House rolled his eyes, "Let me save you some questions. I'm not dead."

"I can see that." Arlene shot back.

"At least she's quicker than Chase." House commented toward Cuddy, "I'm going to go find out if jail time or a differential diagnosis is in my near future. I'll leave you to explain everything else." He limped out of the room and Arlene gave her daughter a steely gaze. He found Chase in the hall, holding the chart with one hand and his beeper in another, "Chase," he began, "You can do whatever you want after this is over, but it need you to stay and help me." His sincerity was difficult to muster but needed. He couldn't tell if he was simply manipulating Chase into helping him or truly begging.

Chase stared back at him and House could tell that he was fighting with himself, "Not until you tell me what happened."

House gritted his teeth, knowing they were wasting precious time, "I faked my death. Artists are only truly appreciated after their dead." He tried, dryly. Chase narrowed his eyes, so House tried again, "I violated parole, I didn't want to go back to jail, OK?"

"Wilson disappeared after your funeral." Chase pointed out.

House looked away thoughtfully, "Wilson died three months ago."

"And if you had gone back to jail, he would be dead by the time you got out." Chase said, figuring it out, "You faked your death so he wouldn't die alone."

"So, now that I'm a selfless and decent human being, will you help me save Cuddy's life?" It was a mixture of sincerity and annoyance.

"I just paged Foreman, he's on his way." Chase answered.

House found himself extremely relieved.


	5. Piano Man

House and Chase were in the waiting room throwing around ideas when Foreman arrived.

"Influenza obviously has something to do with it," Chase was saying as Foreman approached them.

"Dr. Chase, Dr. House." Foreman said significantly, having recognized House from the hall.

"Shhh!" House said, mockingly, "My code name is Dr. Outlaw." When Foreman gave him a cold look, he said, "Too obvious? How about Magnus…Switchblade?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Foreman snapped.

"Everyone is so hung up on me being dead when we have a dying patient." House said, defensively.

"Dr. Cuddy is the patient?" Foreman said doubtfully.

"I thought you'd me more likely to help if I dropped some big names."

"So, it's not Dr. Cuddy?"

"It is." House handed Foreman the file.

Foreman took it with his eyes suspicious, but they softened as he began reading, "With the weakness in the arms and legs it could be the central nervous system shutting down. Stroke?"

"Leave it to the neurologist to suspect a brain disorder." House quipped, "At least you got over your excitement of seeing me again and got right down to the differential. I was there when it happened, no stroke."

Both Foreman and Chase reacted to the fact that House had been with Cuddy before she was brought to the hospital.

"Why are you so nonplussed that I'm not six feet under?" House speculated.

Foreman gave House a meaningful glance, "Found your calling card. Any disease that causes paralysis is not going to be a good diagnosis." Foreman warned, moving on despite Chase's confused look.

"It's localized weakness, not paralysis." House corrected, "The patient reports feeling in all limbs but an inability to control the muscles."

"Parkinsons often presents with weakness but which is actually a loss of motor function." Foreman pointed out, noting how House was treating Cuddy like any other patient that he just wanted to solve but not have any attachment to.

"It's not Parkinson's." House snapped a little too harsh.

Then again, maybe not, Foreman thought, "It's attacking the nervous system, that points to a brain issue."

House nodded slowly, "Then we need a PET scan of the brain." He stood and walked away, heading toward Cuddy's room again.

Arlene turned and gave him daggers, "I thought I recognized the sound of that limp behind me."

"Mom..." Cuddy protested.

"I can see you haven't lost your sense of humor or those endearing neck folds." House shot back.

"House." Cuddy scolded.

Arlene sighed, "We're not going to get anywhere on opposite sides, Greg." She admitted, "I want my daughter to get well and I think you can do that. I'm not making any promises of my actions after that, though."

"Very touching, but that doesn't protect me from the wonderful world of Julia, does it?"

"I'll see to her when she gets here, just stay out of sight until then." Arlene said, her voice suddenly had less of an edge and the worry showed through.

"Easy enough." He said, a shaking agreement made, "You need a PET scan." He told Cuddy.

After shooing away Arlene, House helped Cuddy into a wheelchair, gently pulling her from the bed. He noted that her legs were almost completely useless now and her hands wouldn't flex at all.

"Dr. Kincaid hasn't been back?" House asked.

"I told him that you had authorization over my care." She said, simply, feeling lousy that Kincaid was someone she considered a friend and House couldn't care less, but that he was her best chance. She closed her eyes, banning such thoughts. Why should it concern her if House cared or not?

"Convenient being the boss, isn't it?" House said, cheerfully.

"It was never convenient being your boss." Cuddy answered back, feeling bitter again.

"It was never convenient screwing my boss." House stung back. He instantly regretted it and there was silence between them the rest of the way. Even so, he helped her onto the machine as gently as he could, "Don't go anywhere." He said when she was settled, as if she could move.

In spite of herself, she gave him a smile.

* * *

"PET scan shows nothing. No abnormalities at all." Foreman was saying while as House approached the screen.

"And I had such high hopes that it was the brain too." House said, covering his relief. There were no brain disorders that were good news, especially presented with arm and leg weakness or, if he was honest with himself, possible paralysis. He motioned for the nurses to take Cuddy back to her room, he didn't trust himself not to say something else offensive and mean.

"It's moving too fast to be Parkisons anyway." Chase pointed out.

"It is moving very fast." Foreman agreed, "I would imagine she won't be able to breathe on her own in the next day or so."

"It's not a parasite, brain is clear, there is no infection, but there used to be…" House mumbled.

"What about trauma?" Chase suggested, "She may have not realized she hurt her spine if she had been in a small fender-bender or something."

"And she failed to mention it after paralysis set in? That's a long shot." Foreman tossed back, ignoring how sensitive House had been to the possibility that Cuddy might be paralyzed.

"But not impossible." House said, unwilling to let any theory go that was even in the slightest range of possibility, "Alright, get some x-rays of her spine and I'll go check her home for thongs."

Both men stared at him.

"Did I say thongs? I meant environmental agents." He gave them an innocent look.

Limping into Cuddy's room again, he found Arlene, Julia, and Rachel this time. Rachel's blue eyes grew huge, "House?" She had grown a lot and House suppressed a smile. Her hair was long and straight and she jumped from Arlene's lap to approach House.

"Hey." House said, not knowing what else to do. Julia's jaw set, but she kept silent and refused to look at him. Apparently Arlene had indeed reined in her younger daughter. House put his hand on the top of Rachel's small brunette head affectionately and the little girl smiled widely.

"She remembers you." Cuddy said, her voice unreadable. Julia said something under her breath and House ignored her. He wasn't looking forward to the onslaught of harpy squawking when all of this was over, but that wouldn't stop him from saving Cuddy's life as fast as he could.

"Chase and Foreman are going to give you an X-Ray." He said before walking out. House took a cab back to Cuddy's house, where he never thought he'd be twice in this day. Inside her home again, House hobbled around slowly. He looked through the usual places; under the sink, in the refrigerator, in the closets. When he went into the bedroom he took a breath of preparation. Most of it was different, but some things were the same. There was a quilt that he remembered hanging over a quilt rack, the oak vanity was the same as well, a Cuddy family heirloom. He rifled through a few drawers before opening the closet where the door wafted the familiar scent of Lisa Cuddy. On a higher shelf, he spotted a hat box and pulled it down. Inside were pictures. Family photos took up most of the box and House had to suppress a smile when he saw teenage Cuddy and her sister in tacky prom dresses. He nearly put the box back when he spotted the corner of one of the photos. It was clearly his piano. Cuddy was sitting on the piano like a lounge singer posing. He knew that he had taken the photo. Beneath it was another, both of them were on the piano bench and she was kissing his cheek while he attempted a photo with both of them. It hadn't turned out very well as half of each face was cut off, but it made House's chest warm and his stomach stir. He placed the lid back on the box, but couldn't bring himself to replace the photo of her kissing him. Placing it carefully in his shirt pocket, he left the house.


	6. Testing

House limped back into the hospital no more informed about what was wrong with Cuddy than before. He felt the photograph very potently in his breast pocket but his gaze remained steely as he entered the now crowded room.

"No slips, falls, or car accidents?" Chase was asking Cuddy.

"No." She told him.

"See, this is why I asked for an X-Ray, so we know for sure. But why listen to me when you can just ask the patient whether or not her spine is injured?" House said loudly, his voice irritated.

"We just got her back into bed, House, I thought I'd take some initiative and actually assume a patient would tell us the truth. The X-Ray will be available shortly." Chase huffed and walked out.

"He's just wasting his breath and yours." House explained before following. By the time he hobbled to radiation, Foreman and Chase were looking at the results of the X-ray. By their faces, he could tell they hadn't found anything. His keen eyes scoured the X-ray for any abnormalities, but found nothing as well.

"Perhaps this is just influenza presenting with more severe-" Chase was cut off by House.

"She didn't react to antibiotics." House grumbled.

"She was only on them for a couple of hours." Chase countered.

House sighed, "Fine, give her antibiotics, but when doing that wastes more time and does nothing, do a nerve conduction study."

Foreman's eyes narrowed, "All that will do is determine the damage to her nervous system, it won't tell us what she has."

"If we understand the damage better, we'll be that much closer to a diagnosis." House rationalized, "Do an LP after that."

Cuddy was spent after the nerve conduction study. The tingling from the electric shocks to stimulate her nerves made every position uncomfortable. The sun had set long ago and she was not looking forward to a lumbar puncture.

"Rachel shouldn't be here for this." Cuddy told her mother as House and Foreman walked in to do the test. It was a painful test and Cuddy didn't want to scare her daughter.

Julia had been looking for an excuse to be out of House's presence anyway and offered, "I'll take her to get something to eat." He voice tense even as she was speaking about Rachel.

"No." The tiny voice came out with such command that the whole room turned, "I won't go with her. I want to go with Grandma or House."

House had no idea why he was filled with such self-satisfaction to know that Rachel would choose him over her aunt Julia but he practically glowed with smugness. Trying to hide his amusement, he prepped for the test.

"Rachel, come with me now." Julia demanded, her tone irritated.

"No." Rachel said again.

"Rachel!" Julia was red in the face now.

"Rachel sweetie, I need you to go with Aunt Julia." Cuddy attempted.

Arlene intervened, "I'll go with her, Julia." She offered, "Let's see if the cafeteria has ice cream, Rachel honey."

Julia shot House a cold look as Arlene and Rachel left the room, "You just ruin things wherever you go, don't you?" She stormed out of the room.

House looked sheepish, "I'm sorry, Cuddy."

"She's upset because Julia is upset. No one would want to go with someone so grouchy. It's a new kind of surprise when a child finds someone more grouchy than you, House." Cuddy said, her voice almost taking on a fond tone.

House helped Cuddy onto her side and get into a good position for Foreman The nerve conduction study had shown increased weakness in the hands, and almost complete weakness in the legs. By this time tomorrow, if the respiratory muscles were affected like Foreman predicted, she would be on a respirator. House stood behind Foreman, who crouched by Cuddy's lower back. The needle pierced her skin and she tensed. It was then that House realized that the room had cleared out of Cuddy's family. LP's were extremely painful no matter how much local anesthetic was administered.

She sucked in a deep breath as the needle pushed further in and House could see her wincing and biting her lip. Pulling a chair up in front of her, he sat. When she let out a small moan of pain, House couldn't hold back any more. He took her hand and waited for a disgusted reaction. Instead, her eyes opened in surprise and then softened as she accepted the support. Her weak fingers attempted to curl around his hand and he soothed back some errant strands of hair. The motion morphed into a caress as House tried to take her mind off of the pain. She remained tense and stressed throughout the test but her eyes focused on House. Finally, she let out a relieved breath as the needle was pulled out of her spine.

"Got it." Foreman announced.

House gently laid Cuddy back down on her back as Foreman took the sample for tests. He knew he should follow, but touching Cuddy and having her accept his touch was a powerful drug and he lingered.

"Thank you." She said drowsily, and he wondered I she were thanking him for soothing her during the uncomfortable test or ordering the test itself. It was too late to ask as her breathing had slowed into an even pattern. Cuddy had fallen asleep.


	7. Death Sentence

"She has high amounts of protein in her spinal fluid," Foreman was saying, wishing they had a better place than the waiting room to diagnose.

"That points to an autoimmune disorder." House said, in a high pitched voice, while pretending to flip hair over his shoulder. When both Foreman and Chase gave him quizzical looks, he shrugged, "I was playing the part of Cameron."

"Lupus?" Chase suggested, ignoring the impression of his ex.

"Pretty boy doesn't like it when I mock his wife." House jabbed.

"Ex-wife." Chase corrected.

"Nuances." House smiled, "And it's not Lupus."He rolled his eyes, "We're still missing something." He grabbed his cane which was hanging off of a chair and limped back into Cuddy's room.

Julia had taken Rachel home while Arlene slept in a chair by Cuddy's bedside. Cuddy was already awake, a worried look on her face. House swallowed and steeled himself, "Dr. Cuddy, we're missing the screechy voice of the feminine persuasion. Since Cameron is clearly ignoring my summons that leaves you."

"You want her to diagnose herself?" Foreman said entering behind House.

"Why not? She's the one experiencing the illness and she's a doctor." House said, simply in his superior way.

"Because she's too personally involved with the case." Chase answered, still in the doorway.

"She promises to stay objective, don't you?" House asked Cuddy, who finally spoke up.

"I'm fine." She assured them.

By this time, Arlene was waking, "Did you find anything from the Lumbar Puncture?"

"Protein." House said, looking at Cuddy, "In elevated amounts."

Cuddy closed her eyes for a moment, "Nervous system breakdown and abnormal amounts of protein point to an autoimmune disease."

"See?" House said, turning toward Chase and Foreman with a self-satisfied look, "Shall we start you on immunosuppressants?"

"If we're wrong, then that would trash my immune system." Cuddy pointed out, "It's moving very fast for an autoimmune disease."

"True, and if the influenza virus is still present, we're looking at some bad consequences. Like crossing the streams in Ghostbusters bad." House was impressed that Cuddy could talk about her own illness, especially one as progressive and debilitating as an autoimmune disease and not blink.

"What if she never had the flu?" Chase suggested.

"And it's all the disease?" House asked, "Could be. Should we just risk it all and find out?"

"I say we go with antibiotics and them immunosuppressants." Chase repeated.

"And risk tanking the liver." House pointed out.

It occurred to Cuddy that House was being awfully careful. Each time someone suggested a treatment, he pointed out the risks. More often than not, it was Foreman and Chase who were talking him out of risky treatments, not the other way around. "Test for autoimmune diseases first." House decided, taking an even safer route.

"That could take time." Foreman protested, "If we wait much longer to treat…"

"House," Cuddy spoke up, "Do what you think is best, not safest."

"Lisa." Arlene cut in, "It's better to be sure, isn't it?"

House bit the inside of his mouth and refused to look at Cuddy, "Your heart is going to continue to get weaker and you'll have another cardiac arrest if we don't treat for the right thing soon. But, if we treat for the wrong thing…"

"You make the call, House." Cuddy said. No matter what had happened between them, as a doctor, she trusted him explicitly. He had been right time and time again when they worked together and his judgment saved far more lives than cost them. If anyone could make the right call here, it was House.

House finally looked at her, his blue eye indecisive, "We'll treat with immunosupressants and antibiotics." This is the call he would have made with any other patient, he thought, and that's what Cuddy had wanted. The pit of his stomach churned however, knowing that he just might had sentenced Cuddy to death.


	8. You Can't Always Get What You Want

More blood was taken for tests, but in the meantime, the treatment had begun. Arlene had called Julia and Rachel to come back in case they were wrong. The little girl sidled up to House immediately, following him around and he had to constantly bring her back to Arlene. In the waiting room once again, Rachel sat beside him on the couch, her small legs tucked beneath her as she had slowly gotten closer and closer to him. Staring off in thought, House hadn't noticed her closeness until she laid her head on his shoulder. He blinked his way out of his mind and looked down at Rachel thoughtfully, "If only your mother shared your affection for me." He told her quietly, brushing her hair back affectionately.

"I like you 'cause you're quiet." She told him, which made him smile, "Grandma and Aunt Julia fight too much."

"I think that's my fault too." House told her, unwilling to pander and sugarcoat things for a child.

"'Cause they don't like you?" She asked, innocently.

"Right."

"I like you."

"I think you're the only one."

"I'm not." Rachel said, "Mommy likes you."

House's heart leapt at Rachel's words but he didn't allow himself to think she was right.

* * *

After a few hours on the medication, it became extremely obvious that they had chosen wrong. Cuddy had grown so weak that she could barely move, her heart was frail, and they were no closer to finding out what was wrong.

"It's not an autoimmune disease." Foreman concluded, "We've taken her off the medication."

"But the damage has been done." Chase said, soberly, "Her heart won't be able to hold up much longer and her liver has been damaged. The heart is more concerning, however. It won't last another day."

House said nothing. They had failed and he didn't trust his voice at the moment.

"Her best bet is a heart transplant." Chase said.

"But the odds of her getting one with an undiagnosed illness are none." Foreman pointed out.

"Tell the family." House said, quietly, still not looking at either doctor. He knew that Julia, Arlene, and Rachel were in the cafeteria getting lunch and that Cuddy was asleep. He stood and limped toward her room, hanging in the doorway for a time.

"Cuddy."

Her eyes fluttered open and her eyes became worried at the look on his face.

"You need a heart." He said simply, sitting in the chair by her bed.

It was all he needed to say. Cuddy knew the rest of the story. The Donor Board would never give a healthy heart to an unhealthy person when so many people needed transplants. They would elect to give it to the person with the best odds of surviving, "I'm dying."

"Probably." House said, his voice smaller than she had ever heard it.

Her blue eyes filled with tears and House had to look away.

"I'm sorry." He said, sincerely. Bending over, he put his head in his hands and rubbed his tired eyes. Rachel came bounding in then, House guessed she had been sent into the room so that Foreman and Chase could talk to Julia and Arlene. Rachel made her way into his lap and, seeing the photo in his pocket, pulled it out.

"Look, Mommy." He showed it to Cuddy before House to take it from her.

Cuddy gave House a curious look. She knew he had probably entered her home in order to help the diagnosis along, but taking the picture confused her.

House swallowed, unable to explain himself, "I just saw it and thought…" He cleared his throat, "I have always wanted a re-do, but not like this. I thought if I could just have faced it without needing a crutch... I also thought if I was there with Wilson, I might be able to make up for it which is stupid and irrational. I wish I knew then what Wilson finally got through to me."

"What's that?"

"That I was a selfish jerk."

"Was?" Cuddy smirked.

"Was." He confirmed, "If you want, I'll stay until…" These words brought them both back to the reality that she would be dead in twenty four hours, if her heart even held up that long.

Cuddy nodded and House accepted it with a nod of his own. Rachel, sensing that their conversation was serious and not to be interrupted, had sat silently in House's lap. House picked her up gently and stood her on the floor so that he could get up.

"I'm going to kiss you." He warned, "And there isn't much you can do about it." He leaned over and placed the gentlest of kisses on her cheek.

Warmth washed over Cuddy in waves and when House moved away, she found herself wanting more. She watched as House walked out the door and invited her daughter to lie beside her on the bed. Rachel crawled up, but Cuddy couldn't hold her and it broke her heart.


	9. But If You Try Sometimes

House was staring at the floor, tipping his cane back and forth while sitting on one of the waiting room couches after his conversation with Cuddy. Arlene and Julia were with Cuddy after the news and Chase and Fireman came out to join House.

"I'm sorry, House." Foreman said sincerely.

Chase stayed silent.

"The fat lady hasn't sung yet." House said eventually after a moment of silence, "What other non-lethal disorder fits these symptoms?"

"Non-lethal? Just because it's what we want doesn't make it reality, House." Foreman said, "We can't force a happy diagnosis."

"Never said we could." House said, as if it were obvious, "We have twenty four-ish hours. If it is something curable, I'd like to find it, but we're no worse off if it isn't."

Chase and Foreman exchanged glances. They never got the chance to start because Julia came rushing out of the room, heading straight for House. He stood, intending to take whatever vitriol she had in mind for him.

"You son of a bitch." She hollered, "This was your call, your fault."

House bit the inside of his mouth, "I made the call, yes." Was all he said.

"I'm going to sue you for malpractice after I turn you into the police."

"Julia, listen, House made an informed call, he made the best one he could under the circumstances." Foreman defended.

"Are you sure about that? How deep does his bitterness and selfishness run? He could have done it on purpose."

House's jaw set, "Never in my life have I wanted to hit a woman as much as I want to hit you now."

But instead of House hitting Julia, Julia's hand flew up and slapped House hard across the face. Chase and Foreman had been too late to stop it, but they stood in between the two now. House's head had snapped to the side, but he turned back to her, his blue eyes intense but not angry.

"He killed her." Julia protested. House knew that she was partially right.

"Julia listen, we had every reason to believe it was an autoimmune disease which is what she was treated for. Most doctors would have made the same call." Chase tried to reason with her.

"But, he's supposed to be some genius." Julia sobbed.

"It presented symptoms of an autoimmune disease." Foreman agreed.

"But, she just had the flu." Julia was no longer violent, but sobbing as both men tried to hold her up.

House had watched the whole thing and narrowed his eyes, "Did anyone else have the flu too, did Rachel have it?" Julia was inconsolable, so House limped quickly to Cuddy's room, "Rachel, did she have the flu as well?" House asked, urgently.

"Yes." Cuddy answered as Arlene and Rachel looked up in surprise at the exigency in his voice.

"How quickly did she get over it?"

"A few days, less than a week."

"Your immune system is stronger than a five year old's." House pointed out, "You should have at least fought it off as quickly as she did." He said significantly.

By this time, Foreman and Chase had followed House into the room. "Where are you going with this?" Foreman asked.

"What if she did get over it that fast? What if the infection brought something else on? What presents like an autoimmune disease but can be brought on by an infection and presents with Polyneuropathy?"

"A neuropathy disorder? But, her white count has been through the roof, suggesting autoimmune or infection," Foreman said after several moments.

House nodded, "A high white count is the single largest reason that Acute Motor Axonal Neuropathy or Guillain–Barré syndrome is misdiagnosed as an infection or an autoimmune disease."

"It's very rare." Foreman pointed out.

"It fits perfectly." House said.

"GBS is treatable." Chase said, his eyes getting wide.

"Curable." House corrected.

Still red faced, Julia had been listening the whole time. Arlene smiled and began to cry and hug Rachel. Cuddy was looking at House with tears in her eyes.

"We need to administer intravenous immunoglobulins." Foreman said, rushing toward the door.

"No," House told him, "Her heart is too far gone and that takes too much time. The heart needs a break now. Plasmapheresis will filter the antibodies immediately out of the bloodstream so she can produce healthy ones."

"I'll let the hospital know that we need the blood." Chase offered, rushing from the room.

* * *

A half hour later, Cuddy's blood was being filtered out of her body and replaced of the harmful antibodies that had been attacking her nervous system. Her family had been banned from the room until the procedure was finished and House was now the only one left waiting for the treatment to be complete. They were both completely silent, lost in the thought of what the future now held.

Without a future, it was easy to love House. He represented passion, excitement, irresponsibility, and no consequences. Now, however, her thoughts took a turn and she remembered all of the horrible things he had done to hurt her. Had he really changed all that much? The warmth his kiss had brought washed over her again and his willingness to be with her during her illness onto death had proven that he had, didn't it?

"So, should I come back and say sorry for driving my car into your house some other time?" House quipped, breaking the silence.

"I suppose you saving my life bars me from demanding an apology card or any other act of regret."

"Don't think Hallmark covers destroying homes with a car." House shot back, "I might have an AT&T apology card for crappy service asking for my business back, will that work?"

"Are you asking for my business back?" Cuddy said with a sly smile.

"You're just flirting 'cause I saved your life."

Cuddy's smile widened, "This is flirting?"

"Yes," He answered quickly, "Are you seeing anyone?" House asked, suddenly taking Cuddy aback.

"I would have thought you investigated that while you raided my home." She said, wisely.

"Just wondering if you'd lie."

"Everybody lies." She quoted.

House smirked, "Why not, you're attractive, vivacious, and smart-and you can't get a date? I don't buy it."

"I never said I couldn't get a date, I just haven't accepted many." Cuddy told him, feigning offense and finding herself enjoying the banter, "But don't take that as I am completely unable to move on and live without you." She said, taking him down to size, "You made it easy to hate you."

"You made it impossible to forget you." House admitted, "I'm the one who can't move on."

For the second time in as many days, Cuddy was speechless. House gave her a pensive look, waiting for a reaction.

"So, that's a yes on the AT&T card?" House said, finally.

They both smiled at that.

"That's all the heart pouring sentiment you're getting out me." House said, getting up, "In another few hours, you'll be able to fight me off with a right hook and all will be right with the world again."

Cuddy watched him go, confused, unsure, and once again finding herself falling in love.


	10. You Just Might Find

When Cuddy showed positive results just an hour after the treatment began, House began wondering what his next step would be. He had solved the case and certainly done Wilson proud by acting like a mature adult, but what was next? He sat in the Chapel, mostly for privacy rather than any religious sentiment. He remembered what Wilson had said about talking to Amber a few years back right after his girlfriend had died and winced at how cheesy what he was about to do was. His blue eyes were raised skyward, "I'm stuck." He admitted, "I need your advice again and you're not here. I know you'd talk me out of whatever crazy plan I came up with if it was actually crazy…" House sighed, knowing that Cuddy was doing alright without him, probably better than alright, she was better off. If he had truly changed, he thought, he'd leave her be and not screw up her life again.

The door opened and he saw Rachel tentatively peek inside. She smiled widely when she saw House and her tiny legs carried her to him quickly, "Maybe you could come over for dinner tonight." House smiled down at her as she took a seat on the pew, "I'll tell Aunt Julia and Grandma to be nice to you."

"Probably not available." He told her, knowing that Julia had probably already called the police and if he had half a brain he would bail immediately. Taking Rachel's hand, he stood, and she followed. He'd take her back to Cuddy's room and then disappear. He found Cuddy alone in her room, sitting up and gave her a small smile, "Where are the hens?"

"Looking for Rachel." Cuddy said, giving her daughter a stern look, "Because she wandered off."

Rachel looked unabashed, "Can House come over for dinner tonight?"

"Rachel, I'm not quite ready to go home, we'll be here for dinner." Cuddy said, patiently.

"Some other night, House." Rachel looked up at him and repeated what she had surely heard an adult say before.

House had planned to just disappear again, but with Cuddy right here, he couldn't bring himself not to say goodbye, "I'm going to take off, that card will be in the mail by the end of the year." He said, with a smile.

Cuddy bit her lip, "Where will you go?"

"I dunno." He said, surprised she asked, "Away from the long arm of the law." He said in a western cowboy voice in order to amuse Rachel who giggled.

"You could hire a lawyer, and-" Cuddy began.

"And what?" House asked, curiously, "Pray that forgery has a statute of limitations of two years?"

"Explain your circumstances." Cuddy finished.

"I won't use Wilson to save my own ass."

"You haven't done anything that would get your medical license taken away for good. After all the legal tape, you could practice again." Cuddy rationalized.

"I suppose that would be something." House admitted, "Thanks, I'll think about it."

Rachel was hugging House's good leg and he pried her off, once again caressing her hair affectionately. Rachel yawned and crawled up beside Cuddy to lie down. "You leaving, House?" She said, her blue eyes taking on a sort of sad puppy.

"I think I probably should, yeah." House answered her.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to make anyone else miserable."

"House," Cuddy tilted her head, sympathetically, "You should take my advice, start over."

"Let go, move on, start over, I've heard it all. I guess I just need more time to let some things go." He said, looking at the floor, "Can you move your arms?"

"A little," She said, thinking he was just testing her progress. Beside her, Rachel began to fall asleep.

"Okay," House took a breath, "I'm going to kiss you again before you can fight me off, then I'll leave you alone forever." He began to lean in.

"House." Cuddy said in protest, and he pulled back, disappointed.

"Sorry." He said, lamely, "I was going for tough guy, but I guess that came off as selfish jerk anyhow."

"If you had been a selfish jerk, you would have kissed me anyway." Cuddy pointed out.

"Did I just get tested?" House asked, incredulously.

"I think we both did." Cuddy answered.

"Is that the only reason I'm not a selfish jerk?" House asked, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"No." Cuddy assured him.

"Am I enough of a selfless humanitarian to get a kiss goodbye?"

What was she doing letting House back in after all this time? "You're still screwed up." She took him down a notch.

"But, no longer the most screwed up person in the world. I'm at least down below the tenth most screwed up." What was he doing trying to convince her he had changed? Wasn't he just about to do the right thing and walk away?

"Why don't you give me a call when you're the twentieth?"

House was taken aback, "Cuddy, I…" He cleared his throat, "I was just going to leave, you're better off."

"There's a fine line between selflessness and self-torment. You deserve to finally be happy, House."

"There's an even finer line between love and stupidity." House countered, "You don't deserve to be miserable."

"I was never miserable with you, you just weren't there when I needed you." Cuddy told him, "It's not what I wanted, but I needed to be able to depend on you. Instead of proving that I could, you spiraled downward and screwed up even bigger."

"How do you know I won't do that again at the first bump in the road?"

"I think almost dying is a bump." Cuddy pointed out, "And you were here."

Julia and Arlene entered now, at the most inconvenient moment possible, House thought. He closed his blue eyes and turned to them. They saw Rachel fast asleep on the bed and a look of relief passed their faces. Julia's didn't last long, however and she regarded House coldly.

"I think you should go now or I'm calling the police." She said, heatedly.

"Thought you were doing that anyway." House shot back, "No need madam succubus, I'm turning myself in anyway. Know any good lawyers?"


	11. You Get What You Need

"He's lying, he's not going to turn himself in. He deals out suffering, he never willingly takes it." Julia said, "You're a menace and you think you can attempt murder and then weasel your way back into Lisa's life."

Cuddy thought of Wilson and how much suffering House willingly took for him, "Julia, stop. House just saved my life, even if he was going to run away, we owe him a head start." Cuddy pointed out. Rachel stirred and awoke because of the increasingly loud voices.

"You're falling for it again, Lisa." Julia accused, "You're defending him again. You once told me he was a manipulative son of a bitch and that if he wanted something, he didn't care who he hurt to get it. What if he's the reason you're sick in the first place?"

House gave Cuddy a sidelong glance, "Glad you speak of me fondly."

"Shut up, House," Cuddy said, "Julia this wasn't some plot and if it weren't for House-" She suddenly remembered Rachel there and stopped herself not wanting to scare her about how close her mother had come to death. Rachel was looking at the adults around her confused and afraid. Instinctively, Cuddy moved to put an arm around her.

House paused and smiled. Realizing what she had been able to do, Cuddy forgot the argument and smiled too. Julia was still unconvinced, "You're making a mistake, Lisa. That bastard belongs in jail ." She said, pointing, "And I'm calling the police."

Cuddy could make no move to stop he sister and House certainly wasn't about to get into a physical confrontation trying to stop her. The accusation that he had somehow induced Cuddy's illness might have gotten a cane cracked across her skull. Arlene however stood between her youngest and the door.

"Yes Julia, the man is imbalanced and I'm not thrilled to have him around, but he just saved your sister's life and damnit, we're going to give him some air before we rat him out and toss him in a cell." She said, causing the whole room to go silent. Arlene turned to House, "I believe people should pay for their mistakes and as mistakes go, yours was no spilled milk. You have one day to get representation and go to the police yourself or run away. And if my daughter so much as sneezes in the direction of a police officer, I will disown her so fast that her head will spin when she reads that the name Cuddy was taken off her birth certificate."

Julia gasped at the severity of what would happen if she called the police. Arlene never let her say another word, however, "Now go home, Julia, and come back to visit when you've come to your senses." Looking at her sister and other, Julia finally left the room in much less of a huff than House might have guessed. She seemed broken rather than indignant.

"Rachel, sweetie, grandma's gotta get you to bed, we'll be back to visit tomorrow." Rachel reluctantly slid off the bed after some assurance and a kiss from Cuddy and took her grandmother's hand, "One day, Greg." Arlene said before the two walked out.

Cuddy and House were silent for some time, still digesting all that had just happened. It was House who broke it, "So, I even earned brownie points with your mother, surely that deserves a kiss."

"I wouldn't classify not turning you in for one day brownie points." Cuddy answered, unwilling to give in. House still had a ways to go before being twentieth on the list of screwed up people.

"I guess I have a whole day to figure me out." House said then.

Cuddy found that she didn't have the courage to confirm what he had said before about staying and turning himself in. She was too exhausted to work out those feelings right now.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Cuddy." House promised and she smiled. Outside the room, Foreman and Chase had heard everything and they gave him sympathetic smiles.

"Oh, god, you two are still here?"

"I know a very good lawyer, House. I could give you his number." Foreman offered.

"You both should already know that I'm running, not hiring some shark who'll end up screwing me over and sending me back to jail."

They both stopped in their tracks, crestfallen. Foreman looked more angry than anything. House stopped too and turned around, "Give me the damn number." He said, begrudgingly.


	12. Everything Right

The following day, House sat in front of the lawyer that Foreman had recommended and, as it happened, this lawyer did a lot of work for Princeton Plainsboro. "Well, Dr. House, I certainly have heard a lot about you, but from what you just told me, your reputation doesn't do you justice." Said Derek Fey.

House just gave him a sarcastic smile, "I also have a reputation for greatest street performer ever, so I'm S.O.L.?"

"No, I didn't say that." Fey said with a smile, "But, you have weaved quite a mess for yourself. I'm going to go to the judge and plead your case."

"That's it?"

"Well, no," Fey told him, "Discussing the case with the judge is only the beginning, but you turned yourself in on good faith and that looks good at least. Odds are, this won't go to court and we'll find some settlement. It's good news."

House looked at the floor, not liking the sound of his future.

* * *

He was outside on a bench when his legal counsel and the judge were in conference. Fey had probably rightly chosen not to have House present, "You're abrasive." He said by way of explanation, "It's best if he sees you after the initial presentation of your case…in a suit and politely apologizing for your illegal actions. Ya know the drill, 'yes, sir, I know I screwed up, no sir, I will not do it again.'"

House found himself thinking about Cuddy and wondering why she was trying to convince him to stay. She was clearly making a poor decision if she wanted him back in her life but he couldn't get himself to walk away. Perhaps he wasn't giving her enough credit. She was a mature grown woman who could make her own choices. He had warned her what he was before and she had still chosen to be with him. Maybe it was time to try and make himself happy instead of making everyone else miserable or trying to spare them from misery. Maybe, as Cuddy said, he did deserve happiness. Wilson thought so. But as they both had pointed out, he feared that happiness wouldn't last and seemingly sabotaged it on purpose in order to stay in control.

_"What will you do?" Wilson had asked, lying in a hospital bed they had procured and placed in a month to month rental apartment._

_"I don't know." House said, lamely. This was not the first time Wilson had asked this._

_"Fix yourself, House. Figure out what means something to you, makes you happy, truly happy, and live for that."_

_"Nothing makes me happy." House admitted._

_"You've been happy before, but you were too afraid of it to live for it." Wilson sighed, "If you weren't such a coward, you might be happy."_

_"I wouldn't know where to start." House admitted. _

_"You're miserable because you push happiness away because you're afraid to lose it." Wilson told him, "If that's not the definition of illogical, I don't know what is."_

_"I didn't push Cuddy away." House said, suddenly._

_"Yes, you did, you married a hooker. And you would have pushed her away earlier if you had suspected it would all end." Wilson argued, "No one should have to make their own lives more difficult to make sure you understand that they're not going anywhere. You have to give loyalty to get it and she was devoted to you. If you weren't such a selfish ass and you'd be surprised how many people will be happy, including yourself."_

_"She had already ended it before I got married." House argued, knowing it was lame._

_"Because you let her down, but instead of proving you had actually learned anything from it, you became an even bigger selfish ass."_

_"How do I prove I learned anything from it?" House demanded, "Because I did, do you think I would have acted in the same way again?" _

_"It was important to her and you bailed." Wilson summarized, "It wasn't like you forgot an anniversary, she thought she was dying."_

_"I thought she was dying and I was scared!" House had shouted at Wilson._

_"It wasn't about you. You chose to protect yourself rather than be there for her." Wilson shot right back._

_"I know what I did wrong!" House yelled._

House was taken abruptly out of his memory by Fey tapping him, "Bail has been set at $500.00 which Foreman paid, so at least you're not going to jail...yet."

"Oh god, owing Foreman money is worse than jail." House quipped, keeping his relief to himself.

"You're also to report to Princeton Plainsboro every weekday at 9am."

"What? Why?"

"Because one of the things that kept the judge so lenient is that you have saved a lot of lives as a physician and your practice as one had nothing to do with your illegal actions. I also explained James Wilson's case. You'll be doing a sort of community service at the hospital." Fey explained, "Under the supervision of Eric Foreman."

"I knew it wasn't a selfless act to bail me out." House complained, "And I didn't want you to bring up Wilson, I don't want sympathy."

"You needed a decent reason to have faked your death because that's the charge now. It's not just the probation violation anymore." Fey explained, "I also need character witnesses on your behalf to make this work. Anyone but Dr. Cuddy."

House scoffed, "Looks like I'm screwed."

* * *

Back at Bayshore, House noticed Cuddy's room was empty but for her. He limped inside and she smiled softly at him.

"No stripes," She said, casually of his clothing.

"Out on bail." House told her.

"So it went well?"

"More or less. I have to kiss Foreman's ass and work as a candy striper at Princeton, and find some people who love me enough to lie and say what a stand up citizen I am and I'm in the clear."

"In the clear?" Cuddy wondered before giving him an ironic smile, "A stand up citizen?"

He gave her a scolding look, "Well, it'll make me look good enough to avoid prison and a trial and settle the case with something more lenient like probation. As in the clear as I can be given the circumstances." He couldn't exactly explain why, but he felt the weight lifting off of him as he told her his new circumstances. He hated to admit it, but it felt good to be legal again and be able to have a legitimate job and life. His freedom had been limited and he remembered having to procure different ID's and find ways to hide who he was. He hadn't realized it before, but being legally alive was far better than legally dead. This truly felt like starting over. He wouldn't have to wonder 'what if' anymore, his slate would be cleared instead of hidden. Even with this feeling, he still got the impression that Cuddy had reconsidered her position on him. Why did he feel as if a wall had suddenly come up between he and Cuddy? Maybe Julia's words finally hit him and her.

"I'm going home tomorrow." Cuddy interjected into the silence.

"Great." House said, a little short.

As much as Cuddy still loved House, she couldn't justify being with him right now. Emotions had run high the last few days and near death experiences tended to make one vulnerable, but sitting here most of the day made her logical brain come back. Julia had been mostly right and even though he was trying to put his life back together, she wouldn't put herself and Rachel through it again. House was still considered a loose cannon. However, "I'll be a character witness." She offered. Perhaps he would open up again.

"You can't be." He told her, "Judge's orders." He felt himself closing off again, afraid of losing the simpatico they had rediscovered in the last few days, afraid to ask her to love him again. He didn't know how to stop the downfall. Why did he always do this?

"I have to go." He said, simply, leaving a confused and saddened Cuddy behind.

Two months later, House stepped out of the courthouse, officially a free-ish man. Foreman, Chase, and even Cameron had appeared in his defense. They didn't sugar coat what a bastard he was, but they did impress upon the judge that he was a good doctor and did care about patients and people in his own way and that pain and drugs had affected his ability to think clearly. House was clean now, another of Wilson's stipulations of redemption which worked very much in his favor to the judge.

One year of probation and a job at Princeton, he repeated in his head after the judge had made a deciswion. He hadn't wanted the job, but would have to hold it down for at least six months as a part of his probation. He didn't want to go back to Princeton where his old life hung before him but would never be the same again, but it was better than prison…slightly.

The last thing he wanted was his old apartment, so he got a place on the other side of town. No piano, nothing familiar. That was at least a comfort. Unpacking in his new apartment, he found the letter little Rachel had written him asking him to be friends again. He had so few items that he carried around, but Rachel's note was one of them. It was one of the few memories of connecting with another human being that didn't make him feel like shit.

On Rachel's birthday two weeks after his hearing, he had sent a card and a gift. The card read, 'Have some rum, ya Bilge Rat.' Reminding Rachel all over again about the awful pirate cartoon House had showed her. He had also sent Cuddy a letter, reading, 'I hate letters. I hate writing them. I hate the sentiment that's expected in them. I lobe you. I stole a thong as well as that picture. Get well soon.' He had heard no word from her.

Life moved on and House worked case to case as before, trying to find that thing he loved. Outside of Princeton, at a table that he and Wilson had eaten lunch countless times, House sat. The memories of the hospital were dragging him down and he missed Wilson all the more for it. He had no friend to turn to anymore and Cuddy had made herself clear at her intentions toward him. He had heard no word from her at all, "Here I am again, having done everything right and I still feel miserable." He said to Wilson. That evening, as he was watching television, there was a knock at his door and he limped to answer it only to find Cuddy on the other side.


	13. A New Chapter

I noticed what a mess the previous chapter was, so I rewrote it. I have a few more ideas, but I do think this story should end with this chapter, not sure I want to potentially ruin it by adding more. Thanks so much for Reading and reviewing!

* * *

He opened the door with a cautious smile, "I see you're on your feet." He commented, wary of her reason for coming to see him

She nodded, "I went back to work yesterday." She told him.

There was awkward silence again as both thought the same thing. What was she doing here?

"Thank you for sending Rachel a birthday gift." She said, politely, making House feel the rift between them widen as their emotional state faded from what it had been a few weeks ago at Bayshore.

"You drove all the way here to thank me for that?" He asked.

"No." Cuddy answered. He gave her a questioning look so she said, "Are you going to invite me in?"

House took a breath and nodded, moving so she could come inside. He inhaled her scent as she passed and regretted it as it filled him with bittersweet memories. The apartment was pretty bare yet and all the furniture was new.

"Have a seat." House offered. The couch was brown and new and it sat in front of a small television that did not look so new. She guessed pawnshop. There was a wooden coffee table that matched the end table and she imagined House going into a single furniture store and picking out some collection arbitrarily, "Can I get you anything?" He asked as she sat on the couch.

"No." Cuddy said, looking like she clearly had something on her mind, "Foreman told me about the judge's decision. I'm glad it worked out."

"And I just have to go a year without smashing my car into someone's home or faking my death and I'm officially a free man." He took a chance, "I'm also number nineteen on the persons most screwed up list, so I'm getting there. Should I still call you when I'm below twenty?"

Cuddy smiled, but chose not to answer, "I just wanted to let you know that if you needed a friend…"

"I don't think I can do that." House interrupted.

"What?"

"Just be friends."

Cuddy sighed and paused, "I don't know that I can either."

House's brow furrowed in surprise as he looked down at her, here, sitting on his couch, admitting maybe that she wanted something more with him again. Wilson's words came back to him, _"If you weren't such a selfish ass you'd be surprised how many people will be happy, including yourself."_ This was the second time he had tried to do the right thing according to Wilson or his therapist and had initially found himself disappointed only to see that his words and actions had effected people after all.

"We don't sound very sure."

"I'm not." Cuddy admitted, "But I can't stop thinking of you, of what you did for Wilson, and what you did for me. And, I haven't been with anyone in years because each date ends the same. I go out with some man who is nice, thoughtful, considerate, and completely boring. I have him figured out within the first few minutes and through the date, he has no original ideas apart from any other man I've met. Courtship would be red roses, flattery, and jewelry. I would go through it all with no challenges, no surprises, and no passion. Yes, that man might be better for me, more stable, but I know I wouldn't be happy."

House limped to the couch and sat as well, taking in her confession.

"You provided the surprises, the passion, and the admiration I have to have for the person I'm with but…"

"But I put myself first. I chose to protect myself." House admitted, "Wilson told me that if I stopped being a selfish ass that I would make other people happy and, in turn, myself."

Cuddy studied the carpet, looking for her next words, "I'm sorry about Wilson, House." She said, finally, her eyes filling with tears.

House just nodded, "So, now what?"

"I don't know."

"Do you love me?"

"It was never about a lack of love, House. I always will love you."

"Do you want to be with me?"

Cuddy's blue eyes came up to look at House's. She swallowed, "Yes."

"This isn't going to be easy."

"No." She agreed, "I don't think easy would make either of us happy." She wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Can I kiss you now?" He asked again.

Cuddy gave a short laugh and nodded.

House leaned in and grazed her lips with his own. Electricity, the same kind of energy and ardor as he remembered, passed between them and he held for a second, enjoying the moment before. Cuddy watched him lean in and closed her eyes. Her heart pounded in anticipation and her skin flushed with warmth as her lips felt the light touch. Finally, House closed his eyes and kissed her. He felt weak with gratitude and emotion as the kiss deepened. Her hand came up to softly caress his face and he buried his own hand in the softness of her hair.

They kissed until Cuddy felt light headed. She pulled away and he smiled, "Is this why you came over? Was this the plan?"

"Stop analyzing everything." She commanded, going in for another kiss.


	14. Epilogue

I took one reviewers' advice and wrote an epilogue. Thanks for reading!

* * *

By the time Rachel's next birthday came around, Cuddy and House had come up with a routine of sorts. The one hour drive between them could actually be seen as an advantage. Not working together had relieved much of the stress they had experienced with the boss/employee struggles from their previous relationship. It also made their time together valued even more since it was less.

Each weekend, they would stay together, taking turns making the drive. When they were at House's place, Rachel stayed with Arlene. When House drove to Cuddy's home, Rachel spent the weekend with them. This weekend was the weekend after Rachel sixth birthday, however, and House was hosting them both at Rachel's request. The kids party had been earlier in the week and so it was just the three of them tonight.

House's new piano was in use tonight as well. Rachel was on top of the piano, lying on ever stomach, smiling from ear to ear. Cuddy sat beside House, snuggled against him. "Happy birthday, ya hideous scummy bilge rat." House sang as he played, "Happy birthday to you."

Cuddy gave him a look, but Rachel's giggles made her forced to accept, once again, that her daughter and House had an unusual relationship. The two constantly insulted one another and since Rachel seemed to understand that it was not OK to play the game with other adults, Cuddy would let it slide.

"Thank you," Rachel said joyfully, before adding, "You rotten stinky pustule." Being brought up by doctors made the insults often include words that no other six year old would possibly know yet, thanks to House.

Cuddy suppressed another sidelong glance at House, "So glad you taught her that game." she said, dryly.

Rachel grabbed the little digital camera sitting beside her and began to point and shoot. Posing absently, Cuddy gave House a kiss on the cheek. None of them would know it until the photos were brought up on the computer later, but she snapped the very shot House had attempted and failed years before by cutting it too close. It would look extremely similar to the picture that had been in his desk drawer since he had stolen it from the hatbox in her home. He stopped wondering since then why she had kept it and knew now that he was living for what he loved. It was unlikely that he would ever stop over analyzing it, but Wilson had been right all along.


End file.
